


If I Fell

by saltyfirefly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 14, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, My First Smut, Nobody is Dead, The Impala (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:17:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfirefly/pseuds/saltyfirefly
Summary: "The moment I laid my hand on you in hell—that’s when it started. The exact moment that I reached out and touched your soul. That’s when I fell—for you, Dean. Not for humanity, or for justice, or for free will. For you.”





	If I Fell

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Beatles song of the same name. 
> 
> (Please listen to it, if you haven't heard it. The Evan Rachel Wood cover from "Across the Universe" is lovely too.)

* * *

They had been arguing, again. Finally, Dean had gotten up and stormed out of the room. He couldn’t have this conversation again, not when it was over and done with now. Not when it meant that Jack was healed and Adam was finally at peace, and there wasn’t another Michael wandering about. Dean walked off and didn’t stop until he was in the garage, not even bothering to turn on the main lights. He didn’t have his keys, they were still in his room, but he didn’t have the need for that kind of escape right now. Just a couple minutes of privacy with his Baby would do the trick. Cas wouldn’t let him have it, though.

“Dean Winchester, you are the most infuriating man that I have ever encountered,” Castiel practically growled at him, the second after he’d gotten himself out to the dimly-lit garage with Dean.

“Tell me something I don’t know, Cas,” Dean snapped back. They’d been down this rode so many fucking times before. 

“How about I start with the things you _should _know, but choose to ignore anyways?”

“Whatever makes ya feel good, Cas,” Dean said, forcing his face into an expression he hoped resembled boredom.

“You know that it irritates me when you do that. When you block yourself off from ever admitting a genuine _feeling_, until you’re pushed over the edge and you end up letting something slip. And you know that whenever you finally, finally say something, that I believe you. For better or worse, I believe you. You know that when you say those things, I know that you mean them. With all your heart. With all your soul.”

“You sound bitchier than Sam, you know that?” Dean asked, purposefully not saying anything specific in response to Cas’ words.

Cas gripped the collar of Dean’s shirt tight and pushed him back against the Impala so quickly that Dean forgot to breathe for a second. When he regained his breath, Dean could smell the slight scent of fabric softener and old books, and something more, warm and rich as honey and powerful as ozone, that seemed to radiate from Castiel himself.

“You know what you’re doing,” Cas continued. “You know that you’re being snarky instead of just saying something, anything. You know that if you keep this up long enough, that I’ll eventually give up and let you wander off to drink yourself to sleep. But here’s what you don’t know: I’m not letting you do that tonight.”

“Oh, really?” Dean said, trying and failing to not meet Cas’ eyes. There was no hope after he did that, there never was.

“Yes, Dean. You said to tell you something that you don’t know, and that’s what you’re going to get. You know how I fell, for _you_, Dean, but did you know that I fell for you in more ways than one? And did you know that it was long before I defied my orders that I had begun to fall? The moment I laid my hand on you in hell—that’s when it started. The exact moment that I reached out and touched your soul. That’s when I fell—for _you_, Dean. Not for _humanity_, or for _justice_, or for free will. For you.”

Dean couldn’t respond. Cas’ words shook him all the way to his core. For years, there had been hints of this. The jokes that others made about them. The side eyes and knowing glances from Sam. When Dean had the Mark of Cain and Cas had told him that he would still be there for him long after he watched the rest of the world burn. When Cas had been hit with that damned lance, and he was dying, and Cas had said, “I love you. I love all of you,” and Dean didn’t stop to think if Cas meant anything specific, he’d just cared that Cas was dying. And then later, when Lucifer actually did kill Cas; later, when Dean had prayed for Cas to not really be dead, when he would have given anything to have Cas back. When Cas returned from the Empty, and Dean was so happy to have his friend, his angel back…But in all of those times and in dozens more, neither had actually said the words, crossed over the point of no return.

“You really are the most infuriating man, Dean Winchester,” Castiel said again, but the growl in his voice had shifted. There was less anger, and yet something...more.

“But you still fell,” Dean said, his voice low and husky. It was an invitation; Cas could acknowledge it or ignore it as he chose. 

“Yes,” the angel answered. “And given the choice, I would do it all over again. For you.” 

There was only the slightest fraction of a second before Dean responded. The choice to act was easy. Too often had it been placed before him and he had not taken it. Too often had he thought about it, and never acted upon it. But here, now, the choice was easy. Cas still had a grip on Dean’s shirt. He was still just inches away from Dean’s face. So Dean placed a hand behind Cas’ neck, pulling him in enough to close the gap between them. It wasn’t until Dean’s lips were on Castiel’s that Dean’s brain had time to catch up to what he was doing.

The kiss couldn’t have lasted more than a second, but Dean froze and pulled away the instant he realized that Castiel’s eyes hadn’t closed like Dean’s had, how Cas’ lips hadn’t moved to press back against Dean’s. For one horrible, gut-wrenching moment, Dean thought that he had made the worst mistake of his life. He took one glance into Cas’ impossibly blue eyes, pupils wide with shock, but also with a profound sense of _want_. Still, it wasn’t until Cas’ lips were pressed against his, this time in full force, that Dean realized that this wasn’t a mistake. It was something long overdue.

Cas’ kiss was nothing like the tentative one that Dean had given. He pressed into Dean like it meant his life, mouth working in time with Dean’s, faster and deeper. Dean let his teeth nip ever so slightly at Cas’ bottom lip, and Cas shuddered even further into their embrace. Cas’ tongue, warm and sweet, probed gently at Dean’s lips. He parted them without hesitation, letting Cas lick into his mouth and caress Dean’s tongue. Dean still had his hand behind Cas’ neck, but his fingers had trailed upwards to twine into the soft black curls at the base of his head. He tugged at Cas’ hair, just enough to let him know that _yes_, this was good. 

Eventually their kissing slowed, became languid and even sweeter as their lips drew back from full pressure to the softest whisper of touch. Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s, and they remained there for a moment, letting their pulses settle and listening to the sound of each other breathing.

“I fell for you too, Cas,” Dean said, just loud enough to be heard. “A long, long time ago.”

* * *

Their first time, Dean thought, would be different. Not that he had done a whole lot of thinking about doing this with Cas. Or at least, he didn’t want to admit that he did. But if he had thought about it, the very last place he would have expected it to go down was in the backseat of the Impala. And yet somehow, it felt right.

They had been leaning against the frame, kissing hot and heavy, when the two of them became acutely aware of the other places they had begun to touch each other, whether inadvertently or on instinct, Dean didn’t know. Cas seemed confused when he finally noticed the slow rolling of his hips against Dean’s pelvis. Dean could practically see the gears spinning into overdrive in Cas’ head. So Dean had taken the opportunity to turn Cas around and push him against the Impala. 

For just a moment, Dean deliberately met Cas’ eyes, smiled his very best wolfish grin, and then pulled on Cas’ hair just enough to tilt Cas’ head backwards. Dean wasted no time in pressing his lips against Cas’ neck, down to his collarbone and back up again to the place where Cas’ neck just met under his jaw. Dean sucked at the tender point on Cas’ neck at the exact same time that he nudged his knee in between Cas’ legs. Cas’ body shuddered again as the muscles of Dean’s thigh brushed up against Cas’ rapidly stiffening cock. Dean moved his hips with the same roll that Cas had earlier, as he continued to ravage Cas’ neck. His own dick hardened and press up against Cas’ hip, and Cas let out a low moan at the touch. 

Suddenly, Cas snapped his head back up so he could make eye contact. Without stopping the mutual grinding of hips, Cas looked directly into Dean’s eyes and said, “Dean, I…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Dean, I want you,” Cas growled, and this time the sound he made had no sense of anger to it, only pure unadulterated lust. Dean paused only long enough to plant a fierce kiss on Cas’ lips before he spoke.

“Me too, Cas. Now,” Dean said.

Before he knew it, they were in the backseat of the Impala, Dean lying on top of Cas’ body. The next few moments were a flurry of clothing being shed amongst kisses and caresses, until they were finally naked and sitting face to face. Dean looked down at Cas’ groin, his cock hard and red and throbbing, mirroring Dean’s own erection. 

“Dean…how should we…?” Cas asked, voice trailing off. 

Dean didn’t answer, he just leaned in for another kiss, then gently reached down to grasp Cas’ cock in his fist. He moved his hand along the shaft, closed over the head, rubbed his thumb over the tip to spread the quickly emerging precome down so that Cas jerked with slick movement into Dean’s hand. After a few thrusts, when Cas let out a small, gratifying moan, Dean knew that he must be getting close. And fuck if Dean didn’t feel himself getting close too, despite the fact that Cas hadn’t even touched him at this point.

Cas let out something akin to a whimper when Dean slowed his motions and pulled his face back to look at Cas’ in the semi-darkness.

“Do you trust me, Cas?”

“Yes, of course, Dean.”

That was all he needed. Dean pushed on Cas’ chest, but gently enough that Cas got the idea that he needed to scoot backwards. When Cas’s back was pressed up against the car door, Dean deemed that he had just enough room. He kissed Cas’s lips, then his neck, then down his chest and abdomen, and when he reached the spot just about Cas’ dark curly scruff, he abandoned his kisses in order to slowly graze his lips over Cas’ sensitive areas. Dean traced patterns with his lips down Cas’ hip bones, on the tops of his legs, using just enough of tongue on Cas’ inner thighs to make him squirm. 

“Dean,” Cas breathed. Dean responded by licking a slow strip up the length of Cas’ dick.

“Please,” Cas begged, so Dean obliged. 

It wasn’t the world’s greatest blow job, Dean knew, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. Cas was too far gone to last more than a couple of minutes. When Cas breathily tried to warn Dean that he was close, Dean responded by sucking harder around Cas. He had fully intended to let Cas come and swallow as much as he could. So when Cas yanked forcefully at the short hairs on the back of Dean’s head, Dean pulled off of Cas with a wet pop and his mouth open with surprise.

“It wasn’t fair to you,” Cas murmured, reaching a hand out to tentatively touch Dean’s hardness.

“Ohh,” Dean exhaled, as Cas’ fingertips swept sensuously up and down his length.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Dean,” Cas said, in that same low murmur.

“I—” Dean started, before the motion of Cas’ fingers interrupted his train of thought. 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas prompted.

“I want—fuck, Cas, I want you. I want—” he paused again, resting a had over Cas’ to stop the wonderfully distracting attention that Cas was giving him. Dean knew he wouldn’t last much longer, not when they had been holding themselves back for so long. “Come here."

Dean practically pulled Cas on top of him so that the angel was straddling him. Cas eyed Dean quizzically for a second before he began to grind his hips slowly upwards. The motion made Cas slump even closer into Dean, trapping their dicks between them. Cas moaned again at the friction, and the sound made the fire within Dean grow hotter. He snaked a hand between them, gripping both of them together in his fist. He jerked them together to the motion of their hips rocking in unison, and Dean felt his body flush all over with anticipation.

“Dean,” Cas said needily, as if the word had just slipped out. Without further warning, Cas reached his peak, coming in waves against their chests. Dean came shortly after with a small shout, the sight of Cas’ complete pleasure too much for him to hold back any further.

* * *

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” he murmured sleepily. How they had ended up laying front to back on the back seat, Cas’ arm around Dean’s waist, he didn’t remember. And he didn’t care. Dean also wasn’t entirely sure how they could fit on the seat, but his brain was too pleasantly fuzzy to question it. Cas had probably done some kind of mojo. Dean didn’t care; he was too comfortable to care.

“Was that—good?” Cas asked, hesitantly.

“Hell yes,” he said with a slight chuckle. When Cas didn’t respond, Dean realized that he and Cas weren’t on the same wave length.

“Cas? What is it?” Dean asked, raising his head and twisting slightly to face him better.

“I’ve wanted this for so long...so long that I don’t even remember realizing that it was what I wanted,” Cas said, looking at Dean through his dark lashes.

“Well, I am a good-looking guy, if I do say so myself,” Dean said, in an attempt at a joke.

“No, it’s not that, Dean. It’s not _sex_ that I wanted,” Cas tried to explain.

“Then what was it?”

“You,” he replied, blue eyes shining earnestly. 

“You’re so sappy, Cas,” Dean said, intending to be snarky, but failing epically as the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a genuine smile.

“What?” Cas asked, adorably confused. 

“Sappy. You know, like in a chick flick or a romance novel,” Dean explained, not even cringing internally that he had just thought Cas to be adorable. 

“Is that bad?” Cas said, genuinely worried. He knew how Dean typically reacted to those moments.

Dean paused. “Normally, I’d say yeah, but with you...it's different. You’re not trying to be all mushy or anything. You’re just saying whatever pops into your head like you usually do.”

“And is that good?”

“Yeah, Cas. It’s good,” he said, the arm around Cas’ tightening in reassuring pressure. He laid his head back down, closing his eyes and breathing in the faint smell of honey. Of his angel. Of Castiel.

They laid in silence for a moment before Dean spoke again. His voice was quiet, but it rang with truth. 

“I ain’t ever letting you go, Cas. Not ever. You’re mine. And I’ve been yours from the moment you dragged me out of the pit. And nothing, and I mean nothing, is ever gonna change that. I ain’t ever letting you go.”

* * *

FIN 


End file.
